Auld Lang Syne
by mabelreid
Summary: Sequel to "Away In A Manger." Reid's vacation in Las Vegas is about to come to an end, but before he goes home he is faced with the decision to move on from his grief from Maeve, or let his despair get the best of him.
1. Two Women and A Baby

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**A/n here is the promised sequel to "Away In A Manger," please enjoy **_

_**Two Women and A Baby **_

Reid sipped at the excellent coffee made in the hotel coffee shop. It was very crowded the morning of New Years Eve. He didn't mind the crowds though, because he secretly loved profiling people.

He watched two women at another table, one middle aged and one elderly. They looked very much alike and he knew they had to be mother and daughter. The younger woman had short blond hair that was graying at the temples, and hazel eyes. The elderly woman was completely white headed with some iron gray at the ends and the same hazel eyes. The wrinkles in her face told the story of her life, but the way they spoke to each other told him more about them. He could see they had a very close relationship because of their open body language and the laughter that rang out from time to time over the steady roar of a busy room full of people talking to each other.

His eyes jumped to a table full of young people with breakfast selections and alcohol even though it was only eight in the morning. They were all in their twenties and they joked and laughed as if they'd known each other their whole lives.

A family of young children sat to his right and three tables away. Several of the patrons in the coffee shop were glancing at them with icy stares because the kids were making a lot of noise and the parents didn't seem concerned with making sure they were quiet.

He sighed and went back to his coffee and one of his books. In this age of no discipline for kids, it seemed that they acted out everywhere, even in a restaurant or at church.

His mind wandered back to "Our Lady of the West," as his waiter brought the breakfast he'd ordered: three eggs scrambled, bacon, biscuits with a selection of little jams and jellies, and pancakes.

He glanced out the window at the clear blue sky and fluffy white clouds that reminded him a bit of summer. It was deceiving, though, because it was just as cold as it had been a week when he'd found little Mary in the church Nativity Scene. He wondered how she was with her temporary foster family, the Goldsteins. Did they care if she were warm enough in this winter cold? Did she have enough clothes and formula?

Another family passed by his table with the hostess. This time there weren't any little kids, just a mother and father with three teenagers. He ignored them and turned to his breakfast.

"Hi," said a familiar voice, as he dug into his pancakes.

He glanced up and blinked. Detective Castillo stood there with her gun on her hip, her badge on her belt and a smile on her face. She wore jeans, a white sweater and a leather jacket with boots and a white scarf.

"Are you following me, Detective?"

"I thought we agreed on first names, Spencer."

"Oh right, um do you want to sit down."

"If you're sure that's okay."

"It'd be rude for me to say no at this point."

"Yes, it would be," she agreed and sat down across from him, "Great view."

"Is there something you want?"

"Nothing, just the food."

He spooned up some of his scrambled eggs as she perused the menu his waiter had brought.

"How do you know the food is good?"

"This hotel has the best New Year's Eve spread in town. They're here all the way until 2 am on New Year's Day. I've been here five years in a row, since I moved here from New Mexico."

"So meeting me here was just a coincidence?"

He sipped his coffee so she didn't see how disappointed he was that it might just be a coincidence.

"Yes, but a happy one for me."

He put a huge forkful of pancakes soaked in the most wonderful syrup into his mouth. His stomach fluttered and he decided he didn't like the confusion of feelings in his gut.

"Anna… I am glad to see you, but I think I -"

The waiter chose that moment to appear at Rosa's elbow. She ordered two eggs over easy with sausage and a blueberry muffin.

"What were you saying?"

"It's nothing."

She reached out and touched his hand. He yanked it away and looked down at his half eaten pancakes.

"Spencer?"

"I'm sorry. It's not you. I don't like to be touched, that's all."

Some of the hurt in her dark eyes lifted. "Please don't apologize. I didn't mean to run into you here. I was a little surprised and pleased to see you, which is weird because I don't trust easily."

"I used to be more trusting than I am."

"May I ask you what happened?"

He just stared down at the rest of his breakfast. He didn't feel that hungry anymore. "I really don't want to talk about it."

He didn't reply and they sat in silence for a while that managed not to be embarrassingly awkward. Reid didn't speak again until Rosa was finished with her food.

"So what is the next step?"

"I have the day off. Would you like to join me tonight for the fireworks?"

"Are you asking me out?"

"Yes, I am."

He couldn't look into her eyes because they reminded him of fathomless pools of cool water deep in the forest.

"No," he said so abruptly that she flinched.

"Spencer, I -"

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not ready for that. I - um I can't do that again," he pulled out his wallet and threw some bills on the table.

"Spencer, what's wrong?"

He jumped up from the table and hurried out of the room so fast he nearly knocked an elderly lady to the ground. Rosa watched him go red and apologize profusely, and then he was gone.

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The casino was noisy, but not quite noisy enough to take his mind off Rosa and her invitation. He kept thinking about her voice and how the color of her skin reminded him of coffee heavy on the cream and sugar. Her eyes were beautiful, but they weren't the color of the sea after a storm, like Maeve. She had a commanding presence that Maeve didn't have, but he liked Maeve's presence.

_She's not here anymore. She doesn't have a presence. _

He stabbed one finger at the button on the poker machine. The cards flipped but they didn't flip the way he wanted. So much for a 2 percent better chance if you play for a flush. Where had he gotten that statistic anyway?

He added another dollar in quarters to the machine and started the process over again. He was going to win his money back or know the reason why.

Well, the reason why was simple enough, he realized later when he'd actually lost a hundred dollars to the machine. It was unprecedented. Even on his worst day, he could always win back the money he put in the machine. This was embarrassing and thank god, Morgan wasn't here to see it.

He'd managed to kill two hours, but now he was at loose ends and had to find something else to do to get his mind off two women and a baby. In fact, he'd laugh if he didn't want to break something.

He got up from the seat near the poker machine and walked as slowly as he could to the entrance of the casino. He yearned to join in a real poker game, but he was banned. He knew the reason why casinos considered counting cards, cheating, but he didn't agree. It was more along the lines of hedging his bets. His mother always said he should use his talents.

He walked the crowded street, avoiding the people by a kind of internal radar as he thought. Morgan always said that it didn't matter how you grieve, that everyone is different. Still, he felt like he wasn't making headway with moving on with his life. Garcia said that moving on was bullshit, that when you lose someone, you never forget, so how can you really move on?

He sighed and turned a corner to where he'd parked his rental car. He was about to get in, when he abruptly he shut the door and walked across the street instead. He couldn't believe he forgot about the little bookshop right between two casinos.

When he entered the shop, he grinned because Archie was still behind the counter. He had a salt and pepper crew cut, was about five and half feet tall and very portly.

"Well, as I live and breathe, Dr. Spencer Reid. It's been ages. How the hell are you?"

"I'm fine, Archie."

"Yeah sure you are. I can see by your handsome face that your turning cartwheels of joy."

"Do you have anything new?"

"For you, kid I got lots of new stuff. Why don't you come around here and help me sort through it."

"That's why I'm here."

"I know, why the f-k do you think I stay open on the holidays. I'm always hopin' you'll come home."

"Sorry, Archie, I've been busy."

"That's always your excuse."

"Archie, are you going to show me what you have, or do I have to walk out that door?"

"Your threats don't scare me, but I like you, so get over here," he commanded in a heavy Brooklyn accent.

Reid hurried around the counter as Archie pulled a stack of books from under the counter.

"Wow, where did you get these?"

"An estate sale about three weeks ago."

"I can't believe this. These are all first editions."

"Yes… I got them all for a song because the kids didn't know what their dad had in his collection. Bunch of cretins that don't know how to read."

Reid grinned at his friend. "Why haven't you sold them?"

"Let's just say that I had a feeling you'd show up for the holidays."

Reid picked up the first edition of Peter Pan and began thumbing through it. It'd been one of his favorite stories as a kid. On the tough days, the days when his mother wouldn't get out of bed, or eat and the days when he'd come home with bruises and cuts from bigger kids that didn't have anything better to do than use him for a punching bag, he'd wish that he could fly away to an enchanted island and make friends with the Lost Boys.

"How much do you want for this one?"

"It's a gift."

"I can't do that," Reid squeaked.

"Yes you can and you will. I have others to sell."

He did have others, but none of them appealed to Reid to buy. He put them aside and put the book into his messenger bag. "Thank you, Archie. I really appreciate this."

"You can give it to your children."

Reid stood up and edged his way around to the other side of the counter.

"Hey, what did I say, my friend?"

"It's nothing. This week has been really strange."

"You're telling me. I came in early today to get started on a little first of the year inventory and what do I find on the sidewalk?"

Reid shook his head. "I don't know."

"Some dingle berry in a pink tutu and toe shoes dancing with a panda bear. I told them I'd call the police if they didn't clear out."

"It's Las Vegas," Reid reminded him. "Strange is normal."

"You're telling me."

"Thanks again for the book, Archie."

"You're welcome," he drawled. "Maybe next time, you won't be such a stranger."

"I promise."

"Where have I heard that before," Archie complained.

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Reid took the book back to his hotel room. He wished it were a new book, but he'd read it when he was a kid and still had it in his head.

He decided to take another shower, put on a pair of sweat pants, and watch a movie on television. If he could think about something on the boob tube instead of three females that wouldn't get out of his head, he might find some peace and quiet.

When he was halfway through watching an old horror movie "New Year's Evil," he shut off the television. He couldn't concentrate on the movie because Rosa kept popping up behind his eyes. Maybe he should have taken her up on her offer to watch fireworks. It wasn't as if she was offering to take him back to her place for wild sex. It was just a date. He liked her, she was funny, she was in law enforcement and she was very pretty. She didn't take any crap from him and she seemed good with kids.

He put down the remote and picked up Peter Pan. His chest hurt a little when he thought about little Mary and her new parents. She'd seemed to like them okay. She didn't cry when they took her away, but what about now. What if she missed him?

_She doesn't miss you. She doesn't have the cognitive abilities to miss you. She's just a baby. _

He got up and began to pace the room. If only he could see her again and make sure, she was all right. He'd be okay if she knew Mary was happy.

_Let it go._

He couldn't let it go, not just now, so he changed his clothes again and pulled on his coat and scarf. He was going crazy sitting there thinking about Mary and Rosa. There was only one thing to do about it.

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His old neighborhood looked different in the light of day with the sun shining down from a sky that was nearly white instead of blue. A cold breeze slapped at his face and ruffled his hair when he got out of the car. He breathed in the clean, cold hair and stepped around a Christmas tree someone had left at the curb to be picked up with the trash.

His old house looked the same as it always had when he came home from school or from doing food shopping for his mother at the corner market.

He walked up the walkway to the wooden front door and stood there for a long time. This was a mistake. He should just leave and go back to his hotel. It was none of his business and - he flinched when someone opened the door before he could knock.

"Dr Reid?" said Doris Goldstein.

"Yes ma'am… I know I should have called you and it's very rude for me to just show up but -"

"I'm glad you're here," she said. "Please come in. We have a bit of a crisis on our hands and I think you're just the one to solve the problem."


	2. Purple Magic

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Purple Magic_**

Doris reached out and pulled a bewildered Reid into the house.

"What can I do?" He squeaked. "I'm just here to -" He started to go into his messenger bag, but she interrupted him.

"I don't know how you knew to come here, but I'm so glad you did. God truly does answer our prayers."

"Mrs. Goldstein, I really don't -"

He stopped because he realized that a baby was crying rather loudly. It must be Mary.

"What's wrong with her," he demanded.

"I don't know. I've taken care of foster children of all ages for years, but I have no idea how to soothe her. I was going to call Mrs. Carson and beg her for your number."

"Why me?"

"Mrs. Carson told me how she took to you," Mrs. Goldstein said as she hurried down the hall toward the back of the house with Reid in tow.

It was the hallway that led to his father's study. No… it wasn't his father's study, he corrected his thoughts. This house didn't belong to him anymore. Everything was different. The paint on the walls had made the home seem larger and brighter. Hard wood floors had replaced the old carpet and they were exceptionally clean.

"Dorie," cried a small voice. "Want cookies."

"Hey, little man," Doris swung a small boy with black eyes, black hair and skin the color of strong coffee into her arms. "You can have one cookie after lunch. Be a good boy and go find Eric. I'll bet he wants to play hide and seek."

"Yay…"

She lowered him to the floor and he ran off in the opposite direction toward the stairs led up to the second floor. His old room was on the second floor… Reid remembered with surprising emotion.

"Dr. Reid?"

Doris stood near the door to whatever they'd made of his father's study.

"Sorry," he hurried forward. Mary was still crying and he needed to make it right.

The room was a small bedroom. There was a crib at the south end of the room with white sheets and a light yellow blanket. There was a rocker in one corner and a chest of drawers in another. He ignored the rest of the room and went to the crib. As soon as he reached in and picked up the screaming baby, she stopped crying. She didn't go back to sleep, but looked up at him with blue eyes that arrowed straight to his heart.

"I don't know how you do it. I thought it'd be a breeze, but over the last week, she's cried nearly nonstop. My husband and I are frazzled to the bone. I want it to work out, Dr. Reid. She's such a beautiful darling. I've called the doctor, but he doesn't think it's something like croup.

"You're doing a great job. She cried all night before I gave her to you. I think I might know what the problem is, though."

"Oh, I hope you do."

He surveyed this woman. She was in her middle thirties, and about five foot six inches tall. Her brown hair was beginning to grey just a little at the temples. It was short and curly and it suited her light grey eyes. She was very trim and wore a light green blouse with blue slacks and a white apron.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but may I ask if you've fostered a new born."

"No," she admitted. "I have taken care of babies, but none this young. She's so sweet, though."

"I never had charge of a baby this young, either. My Godson was over a year old the first time I babysat for him. I did learn something from his mother when he was very young and she left him alone with me. She was just in the next room but he started crying and wouldn't stop. It was the longest two minutes of my life. Then she came in and took Henry. He immediately stopped crying and I was so upset. I thought he hated me. Then she told me that he recognized her scent."

"What do we do?"

"I'd like to give you something."

He pulled his scarf off his shoulders and put it in the crib. He put the now sleeping baby back in the crib. "Perhaps that will help until she gets used to you."

"I can't let you do that," she said as she gazed down at the baby.

"I'll admit that I wished I could keep Mary with me, but I can see she has loving people around her. Thank you for taking care of her."

"You know, despite the fact that it's been a tough week, Jamie and I are thinking about adopting her if the courts allow it."

"I think that's wonderful."

They left the room and Doris shut the door about halfway. "Mrs. Goldstein, I have something else I'd like to give Mary. I hope that no matter what, you'll see that she keeps it."

He pulled the first edition of Peter Pan out of his messenger bag and handed it to her. "I found this in a little shop on the Strip this morning."

"Do you mean "Archie's?"

"Yes, do you know it?"

"Yes, I love that shop. Archie's a little foul mouthed, but he has a good heart."

"Will you take this for Mary?"

"Of course. I love this story. It was one of my favorites when I was a kid. I always wanted to learn to fly."

"Me too. Um, Mrs. Goldstein, I need to tell you something. This home you're in, used to belong to my family."

She'd led him into the kitchen and was making up a pot of coffee. He leaned against the counter just as he had when his mother was feeling up to it and would cook for them. Now Doris was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I had a friend in Quantico do a background check on you and she told me all about it."

"What do you think of the changes?"

"It's not my home anymore, but that's okay. I'm glad that someone loves this house and takes care of it the way you have. I think it's a great environment for kids."

"Thank you. We love it here."

"Do you mind if I take a look around?"

"Of course not," she smiled at him and clutched the book he gave her to her breast. "Take your time."

He decided to go upstairs and see his mother's old office. He climbed the steps and noticed that the old wallpaper had been stripped from the walls and they were painted light beige instead. He saw that there were many different framed photographs on them, full of smiling children. It seemed they were mementos of the kids the Goldsteins had cared for over their years as foster parents. They were arranged at eye level to make them easier to see. He studied the photographs and thought that the Goldsteins must be very good at their job. One in particular showed Doris with Jamie who was very tall and thin. He wore a beard that was beginning to go salt and pepper. His blue eyes twinkled as he ruffled the hair of a small red headed boy at his side. He wore a red baseball cap and a jersey that matched the little boy.

"_Hey, Spencer, it's your turn," his father said in his head. _

Reid shook himself and hurried away to his mother's study. It was at the end of the hall, but when he walked in, he saw that it was a bedroom. Still, he could see her sitting there right before they came to take her to Bennington.

"_Spencer, please don't do this. I want to stay here. My whole life is here." _

He bit his lip against tears and heaved out a breath. His mother was fine. He wasn't eighteen any more; he was a grown man with a life of his own in Virginia. Perhaps looking around here was a mistake. He turned left and went to his mother and father's old room. It was still a bedroom, but the Goldsteins has changed it. The furniture was heavy and dark, but the carpet was light green with matching walls. The bedding was shades of blue and green and there were cream-colored blinds at the window. Everything was very neat and clean.

"_You're weak," his mother said to his father. _

He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them a small boy with light brown hair and green eyes stood in front of him. "Who are you_, _mister?"

"My name is Spencer. What's your name?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"That's right; you're a very smart little boy."

"Do you know Damien?"

"No, I don't believe I do," Reid leaned forward and put his hands on his knees.

"We live here 'cause we don't got no mom and dad anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, 'cause Mama Dorie and Daddy Jamie takes care of us."

"That's good."

"Do you know how to play hide and seek?"

"I do, I play it with my godson all the time."

"What's a godson?"

"It's like someone that promises to take care of you if something happens to your mom and dad."

"My mommy went away to jail. She hit me."

"I'm so sorry."

"Eric," said a little voice behind Spencer, "You're supposed to be hiding."

Reid turned to see the same little black haired boy he'd seen with Doris. "Hello," he said.

"He used to live here," said Eric.

"He did?" said the little boy.

"Come on, Damien. Lets go play."

They took off without another word to Reid. He stood there for a minute and wondered if he should just leave. He didn't need to see his room. There was nothing left here for him anyway. Another family lived here and they seemed to be happy. He had to leave the past in the past.

When he went downstairs, he ran into Doris again. "Thank you for letting me take a look around, but I really need to be going."

"Oh please stay for a little while and have come cookies. I just made some fresh coffee."

He did smell the cookies and the coffee, but it wasn't his place to be here.

"Come on," she gestured with her head. "I made double chocolate chip."

"Maybe just one," Reid said.


	3. Misunderstandings

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Misunderstandings_**

Rosa took her beer out to the porch and sat on patio furniture that should be in storage for the winter, but she hadn't had time to put it away. What did it matter anyway? It never snowed in Las Vegas.

Her phone buzzed on the table. "What's up, Lee?"

"You don't sound happy for a detective with New Year's Eve all to yourself."

"I thought you and Charlie were going up to St George for the rest of the holiday."

"We are, but I thought I'd call my partner and see how you're doing."

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are. If I know you, you're sitting there with a beer staring into the sunshine and thinking about that little girl and that handsome Dr. Reid, or is it just the handsome doctor."

"I'm not obsessing about Dr. Reid. I barely know him."

"I saw how you were looking at him on Christmas Eve. I say you had better strike while the iron is hot. He's going home day after tomorrow."

Rosa drained away half her ice-cold beer before she answered her smart mouthed partner. "For your information, I struck and the iron is ice cold."

"Really," Lee said over her surprised laugher. "I can't believe it. Is he gay or something?"

"Lee!"

"Hey, I don't care if he likes to dress up in women's underwear and sings "It's Rainin' Men," down at the Blue Flamingo."

"Lee, he's not gay. He just has some issues and I'm not gonna to push it."

"How do you know he has issues? You just met him a week ago."

"I just know. He's hurting, Lee. I can see it in his eyes. There's something that's eating at his soul."

"Ohh… you got it bad, girl."

"Shut up."

"Look, you better get your head straight. Dr. Reid is goin' back to Washington in a couple of days. You don't wanna get in the middle of his emotional crap, you hear me."

"Yeah, I hear you."

"Good, now that husband of mine is freaking out that we're gonna be late, so get off your butt and stop whining over a hot FBI agent. The tall, beautiful, brooding type isn't your style."

"Chica, you don't know my style."

"Oh, I think I do."

"Go, before Charlie has an aneurysm."

"Alright, but seriously, Rosie, don't start something you'll regret."

"Goodbye, partner."

She clicked off her phone and drank the last of her beer. The sun was climbing higher in the winter sky. It brightened to a pale blue with golden edged clouds. She breathed in the clean air that didn't smell like anything and thought of eyes the color of chocolate.

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Reid took off his coat and dropped into the chair next to the window. The cookies Doris had baked were delicious and the conversation with her had taken his mind off Maeve and Rosa, but now they were back with a vengeance.

He picked up his phone and nearly punched the speed dial for Garcia's number. No, it wouldn't do any good to call her. He'd already talked to her and it didn't make a difference.

He put his phone in his pocket and went to the window. The sky looked like summer time at Quantico. He picked up his phone again and pushed one of the speed dial numbers programmed in his phone.

"Hey, JJ," he said when she picked up the line."

"Hi, Spence. How are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm a little bored, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

He winced at the suspicion in her voice. If he wasn't careful, he'd spill his guts and he didn't want to spill them to her, at least not until there was really something to talk about.

"I'm sure. Listen, do you mind if I talk to Henry for a minute?"

"Sure, but if you need anything…"

"I know, thanks, JJ."

She sighed and he waited as he heard her calling out for Will and then Henry was on the line.

"Uncle Spence, we got lots of snow. Daddy helped me build a snowman. When are you coming home? I miss you. Mommy said when you get home we can make angels in the snow like the last time."

Reid smiled when the little boy finally paused for breath. "I'm glad you got more snow, Henry. I can't wait to see the snowman you built."

"When are you comin' home? I miss you."

"I miss you too, buddy. I promise I'll be home in two days."

"Okay."

He didn't sound pleased, but Reid managed not to laugh. "When I get home we'll make snow angels and I'm gonna show you how to make a snow fort."

"Really."

"Yep."

Reid heard JJ say something to Henry, but he couldn't understand her words. "Oh, mommy said for me to say thanks for the Legos and the dinosaurs."

"You're welcome. What else did Santa bring you?"

"I got a game I can play on the television, just like daddy."

"You did?"

"Yeah, and a soccer ball. Mommy said when the snow goes away I get to learn to play, just like Jack."

"That sounds like fun, buddy."

"Do you play soccer, Uncle Spence?"

"No, but Uncle Morgan helped me learn to play baseball."

"Really?"

"Yep, he did. I'll bet he knows how to play soccer."

"Come home soon, okay?"

"I will. Let me talk to your mom for a minute."

"Love you, Uncle Spence."

"I love you too, Henry."

"Hey, Spence," JJ said. "What time does your plane get in on Thursday?"

"Around three pm, why?"

"Because Will said we should pick you up at the airport. We want to have you over for an after New Year's dinner, since we haven't seen you at all for the holidays."

"JJ, I'm not really in the mood for -"

"Please, Henry really misses you."

He sat on the edge of his bed and dug his fingers into the bedspread so hard that his knuckles turned white. "I've told you a hundred times I hate it when you use Henry against me."

"I'm sorry I just -"

"No, you're not sorry. If you were, you wouldn't do it, JJ. Now stop using your son to guilt me into doing what you want."

"I just thought you'd want to spend time with him."

He could hear the ice in her voice now and it made the heat rise up into his face. "I don't want to do this on the phone. I'll come over for your little celebration, but then you and I are going to have a talk."

"Alright," she said through her teeth. "We'll talk. Have a safe trip. We'll see you at the airport."

He shut off his phone and wondered how it was that he got into these situations with JJ. All he wanted to do was hear his godson's voice and have a few minutes that he wasn't thinking about Maeve or Rosa.

He didn't have too much time to think about his disappointment because his phone rang again. He frowned at the unknown number. Who'd be calling him in Las Vegas on New Year's Eve?

"Hello."

"Spencer."

"Oh hi, Rosa."

"Hi, um, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute, if that's alright with you."

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?"

"You sound a little upset.

"It's nothing, really."

"Right, here I go again butting in where I don't belong. I really am sorry about this morning. I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's alright, I overreacted and I'm sorry.

"It's not your fault; I'm the one that jumped in where I don't belong."

"No, it's really okay. I guess you could say I have a lot of baggage. The last couple of years haven't been full of joy and happiness."

"Still, it's none of my business. It's just that, well, I happen to like you, Spencer and I'd like to be your friend if that's alright with you. If you don't, that's okay too, it's up to you."

"I do want to be your friend. He sighed. "Look, I think I'm really out of sorts because of Mary. I keep thinking that we should ignore the "Safe Haven," law and look for the mother because I'd like to ask her why she'd leave a baby in a manger in the cold weather, but a church is a safe haven, so we can't do that. Also, I talked to Doris Goldstein and she said she and her husband are thinking about adopting her. I wish I could take her home with me, but I can't because there's no way it would work. I'm single. I have a job that takes me away from home for days at a time every case we work. A judge would compare me to the Goldsteins and laugh me out of court."

"Spencer -"

"It's okay; you don't have to say anything to soothe my feelings. You know it's true."

"Yes, I know it's true, but that doesn't mean I don't feel the way you do. I'd like to adopt her too, but I can't for pretty much the same reasons."

"How can a seven pound infant make two adults act like crazy people?"

She laughed. "I think we're built to lose our hearts to babies otherwise no one would have one and then where would we be."

It was his turn to laugh. "You're right."

"Do you think I can send you an email every once in awhile?"

"I'd like that, but I don't have it except for what I have to have at work, and I can't give that out."

"You have something against email."

"No, I just prefer the old fashioned way of communicating like letters and stuff."

"You have something against technology?"

He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all.

"Spencer."

"Sorry, it's just a quirk I have that drives everyone crazy."

"It doesn't drive me crazy. I have too much email anyway. How about a phone call every so often?"

"There is a three hour time difference," he stated.

"I guess I'll have to pay attention to my watch before I call."

"Um, I guess that would be okay."

"If you don't want me to call you, just say so."

"It's not you, Rosa, I just -"

"You keep saying that, but I'm starting to believe it _is_ me."

"Rosa."

"Look, it was nice to meet you; maybe I'll see you around. Have a safe trip home, Dr. Reid."

She disconnected before he could respond. He stared at his phone and wondered what he'd done this time.


	4. Advice

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Advice_**

Rosa slid her fingertips into the Holy Water and crossed herself as she gazed up at the altar and the hand carved crucifix. It was the most beautiful one she'd seen in a small parish like "Our Lady of the West." The face of Christ gazed down on her with such sorrow in his eyes; she forgot most of her troubles for a moment in the face of His ultimate sacrifice for all mankind.

"It's riveting, isn't it," said Father Crane.

She jumped a little, and turned to face him. "Hello, Father."

"What brings you here, Detective?"

"Please, Father, call me Rosario."

"Then, Rosario, what can I do for you?"

"I'm not sure. I don't even know why I'm here. It's been years since I came to church."

"God doesn't keep score," he said with a grin.

"I guess I know that in my heart, but I felt like I should be here."

"Why don't we sit?"

She followed him into the aisle between rows of worn pews. She could see the wear patterns of all the people that had attended this church over the years. It was like a badge of honor in a way. If the pews were new and unmarked, it wouldn't be the same, somehow.

Father Crane waited while she searched for the right words. "I feel like I'm at the end of something and at the beginning of the same thing. I guess it's just the New Year."

"Many people feel as you do."

"Yes, but I've never felt it this strongly before. I saw that little girl, a tiny baby that someone just left here without a word. She's the hope of the future. I want to feel that hope again, Father."

"I sense that your confusion isn't for your spiritual life."

She pulled off her gloves and shoved her hands in her pockets so she wouldn't start fidgeting. "No, I - oh, it's so stupid. I can't believe I'm here spilling my guts. Lee's never going to let me live this down."

"Love is never stupid and it doesn't matter what your partner thinks."

She laughed because she wanted to cry and she hadn't cried in public since her Nana had died twenty years ago. "You've never been a cop. Your partner is practically your family."

"I was a Marine. Semper Fi."

"Were you?"

He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. The crucifix he wore around his neck swung in the golden light of the chapel. Her eyes fixed on it as it swayed.

"What I was isn't important. You came here to talk, so talk and stop trying to distract me."

"You'd make a good profiler."

"Is that what you want to talk about, a profiler?"

"As I said, it's stupid. How can I have feelings for someone I've only talked to three times? It's ridiculous."

He smiled so that she wanted to get up and leave, but he said. "Let me tell you a story. My father was a Marine, like me. He met my mother after his last tour of Vietnam in 1974. She was a secretary for the local recruiting office. He had a real passion for the military and wanted to work in recruiting, so he transferred to that office. He said he knew the minute he met her that he was in love forever."

"That's great, but Spencer is going home the day after tomorrow. Also, I think there's someone else in his life."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I asked him out and he got very upset and left the room. I called to apologize today and it didn't go well at all. I asked him if I could email him and he said he doesn't have email, so I suggested calling and he really shut down. I'm afraid I hung up in a huff. I guess he really doesn't like me. Oh God, sorry Father, I sound like a high school girl with a crush."

"I think he's had some real sorrow in his life," Father Crane said. "I could see it in his eyes."

"Me too, but I just want to help."

"Sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all. Be his friend and let things work themselves out. You might be surprised."

"How can I be his friend when he won't let me contact him?"

"Perhaps you wait, and let him come to you."

"I don't like waiting."

Father Crane chuckled. "I can see that, but you're going to have to in this case."

"Alright, I'll wait because I know he's hurting and I don't want to make it worse."

"Letting someone else walk through their pain alone is the hardest thing we can do, but it is sometimes necessary."

"Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome."

She stood up and followed him out to the narthex, which was still decorated for Christmas. "Perhaps one day I'll come in for confession."

He fingered his crucifix. "My door is always open. Go in Peace, my child."

CMCMCMCMCMCM

When Rosa found herself standing in front of the Goldsteins home, she wondered how and why she was there. Now was not the time to obsess about abandoned babies. Still, she reached out and knocked on the door with the old style doorknocker that reminded her of mansions in old movies.

The door was flung open by a small boy of about five with blond hair, green eyes and a missing front tooth. "Hi," he said happily. "I'm Eric."

"Hello, Eric, I'm Detective Castillo."

She held out her badge for his inspection. His eyes went very wide. "You the cops."

She laughed. "Yes I am. Didn't you know you're not supposed to open the door to strangers?"

He frowned "Mama Dorie, says not to open the door."

"She's right. Is Mama Dorie here now?"

"Yep, she's feedin' Mary."

"Oh, well, I suppose I could come back."

"You'll do no such thing," Doris said. "Haven't I told you a million times not to open the door, Eric?"

"It's okay, she's a cop."

"Oh, what am I going to do with you? Go find Damien. It's almost time for your naps."

"Do we have to," Eric whined.

"Yes, get going."

He stomped away and Doris grinned as she ushered Rosa into the living room. It was a beautiful sunlit place with long cream-colored curtains that seemed to absorb the sunlight. There were pictures everywhere including on top of the grand piano in the corner. The furniture, although heavy and dark didn't detract from the lightness of the room.

"Do you play," Doris asked as she rocked Mary in the glide chair that sat in one corner of the room.

"No, but I've always wanted to."

"I don't play. Damien wants to learn, but Jamie hasn't got around to teaching him."

"Your husband plays?"

"Yes, and very well, but you didn't come here to talk about Jamie."

Rosa kept her eyes on Mary instead of Doris and was startled to see something familiar with the baby.

"That's an odd color for a baby blanket."

Doris looked down, and then she grinned. "Oh, that's not a blanket. That's Dr. Reid's scarf."

Rosa was struck utterly dumb. She felt like a statue made from rapidly drying cement. Her limbs were frozen and her mouth wouldn't work no matter how hard she tried.

"You look a bit confused," Doris said as she began to pat Mary gently on the back.

"I am, I mean, how did you get that?"

"Dr. Reid was here to see Mary and he left it here with her."

"Why?"

"Well I've had an awful time getting her to settle down. I was at my wits end and about to call Mrs. Carson and Dr. Reid, when he just showed up on the doorstep. He said she recognized his scent, so he left this with me for when she was cranky and it's worked like a charm so far."

"He gave up his scarf for a baby."

"Isn't that wonderful? If I were fifteen years younger, I think I'd be in love."

"What?"

Doris shifted and held Mary out to Rosa. "Why don't you hold her?"

Rosa took the baby and felt her face going red as her heart began to race when her skin encountered Reid's scarf. "Thank you," she said briefly. "I admit I missed this little one."

"Did you know that Dr. Reid grew up in this house?"

Rosa didn't know what to say because Doris had to be pulling her leg, so she looked down at the baby instead.

"It's true. He told me this morning. Apparently he did his own background check on me and discovered it."

"I don't know what to say. What a coincidence," she managed faintly.

"I don't believe in coincidences."

Rosa looked up at the woman and saw there were mysteries in her kind brown eyes. "I don't know what you're trying to say."

"Just that I know how you feel about Dr. Reid. I recognize the look from my mirror when I was first head over heels in love with Jamie."

"I don't love him," she denied. "How can I, when we just met?"

"I knew the minute I met Jamie that he was the one I wanted."

"You're the second person that's told me a story like that."

"Then perhaps you should listen."

Rosa reluctantly gave Mary back to Doris who got up and put the baby in a swing. Mary didn't cry so Doris started it swinging and playing a sweet little tune the Rosa didn't recognize.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"There is nothing to say. Just be patient. There is something in Dr. Reid that is full of sorrow. I don't know what it is, but I recognize his eyes from Jamie."

"Why?"

"I had the most idyllic of childhoods. I had three brothers and one sister. My parents adored each other and they still do after all these years. We were so happy as a family. Oh, we had our ups and downs but we were always very close to each other. One the other hand, Jamie's father was an alcoholic and he abused him physically and mentally. He did the same to Jamie's mother until she committed suicide to escape it. Jamie ran away at sixteen. He's the reason we started fostering. He wants to give kids a chance, something he didn't get."

"I don't understand what this has to do with me."

"I think you do, because there is something in Dr. Reid that is eating away at him. He's suffered. I know you can see it."

"Yes, but I don't want to pry."

"Good, I don't think you should, let him come to you."

Rosa sank back in the couch. "I'm still confused."

"If you weren't I'd wonder why you came here."

"I wanted to see how Mary is doing."

"Why don't you stay here for awhile, perhaps hold her again? I think if you do, you might find the answer you're looking for."


	5. One Candle

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_One Candle_**

His left foot was on the first step up to the entrance of Our Lady of the West, when he stopped and looked around as if waking from a dream. How did he get here? All he wanted to do after lunch was just drive around his old hometown and try to get his head straight. Now, he stood looking up at the grey stone walls of the church. Sun winked off the stain glass windows and he winced behind his sunglasses. The wind ruffled his hair and he shivered. He reached up for his scarf, but it wasn't there. He looked over at the Nativity Scene.

_Do you think you'll find another baby in the manger? What would you do if you did, bundle her into your messenger bag and take her back to Quantico. _

He turned around and his traitor feet took him to the Nativity Scene. He saw that someone had replaced the baby in the manger. He studied the tiny little face painted to look like a healthy little boy with rosy cheeks and pink lips. Joseph still looked at Mary with adoration. Whoever made the figures had real talent. They looked even more real in the sunlight then they had in moonlight and electric light.

_See, no baby here. Now, go back to your hotel and stop obsessing over a tiny baby that's better off with her new family._

He decided to look up at the spires of the church instead of the animals and shepherds that were part of the Nativity Scene. He liked the way they pointed up at the blue sky full of grey tinted clouds. A car drove by and he jumped. He'd been standing there staring up at the church for almost ten minutes without realizing it.

"You're losing your mind. What would Rosa think?"

His heart gave a strange twisted tug in his chest. Why did he think about Rosa instead of Maeve? Maybe he was ready to move on. Perhaps what he said to Rossi came from more than just his habit of reciting facts. God knew he didn't want to descend into despair. Maeve wouldn't like that. He closed his eyes and she was there, her voice in his head with the words she'd wrote on the fly leaf of "The Narrative of John Smith."

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life alone - we find it with another."

"I wanted to find it with you," he said softly.

He looked up at the church again and one beam of light from the waning rays from afternoon sun, seemed to point at the arch over the closest stained glass window. He remembered that Rossi had once talked about lighting a candle for Carolyn.

He hurried up the steps of the church and entered the narthex. It was very quiet just as a church should be. It felt calming as he breathed in the scent of candles that hung in the air.

The chapel was empty, but he thought that someone must have been there because there were several candles in scarlet votive holders near the altar. The flames made the light glow red around the feet of Christ on the crucifix.

"I don't know if you're in Heaven," he said very softly. "I hope you are and that you know I love you."

He lit the candle, but he didn't cross himself as he'd seen Rossi do because it didn't feel right. He wasn't Catholic. He wasn't anything but someone that was willing to believe in the ultimate force of Good as he believed in the ultimate force of Evil in the world. Did that mean you had to go to church and confess your sins, he didn't know.

"Hello, Dr. Reid."

He jumped and whipped around to see Father Crane standing there half in shadow. He stepped forward and some of the red light hit his chest over the heart.

"Hi," Reid squeaked. "I didn't see you there."

"A common occurrence with my job."

"Um, I was just lighting a candle. Is that okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be," the priest wondered.

"I'm not Catholic."

"Nobody's perfect."

Reid smiled. "Are all priests as funny as you?"

"I believe that God created laughter and tears, both are necessary to a healthy mind and soul."

Reid nodded. "I guess."

"I sense that your mind and heart are troubled."

"You'd be a great profiler."

Father Crane sat down on the very front pew. Reid joined him because he didn't want to stand over the priest. "I think you have to be a bit of profiler to do this job."

"I feel…"

Reid looked down at the hymnal lying on the pew next to him. It was very worn and he thought that the people that came to this church must have great faith to face this man and spill their hearts. Father Crane did not speak into the silence that surrounded them.

"If I tell you what's bothering me, you can't tell anyone."

"Anything you tell me goes no farther. I take my oath to keep the confidence of the confessional, very seriously."

Reid breathed in very deeply and let it out slowly. "About a year and a half ago, I met someone. She was a geneticist and very brilliant. She was beautiful and kind and wonderful. She's dead now, and it's my fault."

Father Crane did not speak to him to excuse him or to sympathize. He eyes were very kind and full of empathy, though.

"She had a stalker. You see, we met because I wrote an article and she wrote me a compliment letter. I responded and for weeks we only communicated with letters. It took some convincing, but I finally got her to agree to phone calls. We used code names and different pay phones to communicate. I never saw her for months. We just talked and I fell in love with her. She was terrified and I wanted to help her, but she wouldn't let me. She said she couldn't let me get hurt. She was the one that said she loved me before I even thought about saying it. We were going to meet one time, but I got to the restaurant first and thought her stalker was there. I told her not to come in. I was so stupid I overreacted, or so I thought at the time. I was going to confront this man, but then he met a friend. I should have confronted him because if I had I might have saved Maeve's life.

"Why?"

Reid jerked a little at the interruption.

"Because it was his girlfriend that was stalking Maeve. You see, he was her ex-fiancé. If I'd confronted him, I would have known about Dianne sooner and maybe saved Maeve from her."

"What happened to her?"

"Dianne kidnapped Maeve and I couldn't talk her down. She shot herself and killed Maeve with the same bullet. I thought I might die too. I wanted to die for weeks, but now, it's been nearly a year and I know it's time for me to move on."

"Yet, I sense that something is making you hold back."

"I know that I have to move on and I think I'm ready, but I don't know where to go."

"Is it Detective Castillo?"

"How did you know?" The shock was such that Reid couldn't think of a way to lie about Rosa.

"I saw how she looked at you that night. I also saw that you were drawn to her even if you didn't want to see it."

"I think you need to join my team."

Father Crane smiled and chuckled a little. "No, I saw my share of blood and death in Iraq. I prefer this life. I'm good at this life."

"I don't know what to do, Father. I do like Rosa, but I'm not ready for anything close to what I had with Maeve."

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself, Spencer. It's not about jumping in with both feet this time. Start out with little steps."

"Rosa asked me out this morning."

"I take it you said no."

"Yeah…. I said no because I didn't really know until an hour ago that I feel like my life can go on. I'll always miss Maeve. I'll always love her."

"That is as it should be, but I think she would want you to be happy."

"So what do I do? I think I made her mad at me."

"How?"

Reid shifted on the pew and suddenly it felt really hard beneath his backside. "She wanted to send me emails after I go back to Virginia. I told her I don't have email, so she suggested phone calls and I kind of freaked out a little. She was really upset and hung up on me."

"Have you told her about Maeve?"

"No. I don't know if I can. I haven't really talked about her to anyone but some friends at home and my team, and now you. I don't know what to say."

"There's no rule that says you have to tell her everything, but if you want to be friends with Detective Castillo, you should tell her why phone conversations are painful right now."

"I want to talk to her. I just don't know if I can. It reminds me of Maeve."

"Don't think of her as someone you want to have a romantic relationship with," he advised. "Think about it as just a friend and I think you'll be surprised."

Reid found his head nodded. "I'll try."

"Why don't you start today?"

"No time like the present, huh," Reid said.

"I always say you've got seize the day."

"Oh that's bad."

Father Crane laughed. "I suppose it is."

"Thanks for talking to me," Reid said.

"That's my job."

"Have you heard how Mary is?"

"I talked to Doris. She's a very formidable woman. There's no one better when it comes to raising money for a good cause."

"I thought she's Jewish."

"She is, but we support some of the same children's charities that are close to my heart."

"Is Mary okay?"

"She is doing very well."

"Oh, well I guess I better get going."

The sun was behind the clouds when Reid left the church. He forced his head not to look at the Nativity Scene. The sun was much lower in the sky. He looked at his watch and found that nearly an hour had passed since he'd gone into the church. The wind whipped at his hair as he hurried to his car. His cheeks were cold by the time he got there. Perhaps by the time he got to his room, he'd know what to do.


	6. The Black Queen in Play

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_An this is it folks. I hope you all had a Happy Christmas and will have a Happier New Year. Thank you for all your support over the year and for this story. Many more thanks to my wonderful beta, you're the best, girl. _**

**_The Black Queen in Play_**

After trying to get his mind of three women by attempting to meditate, something Garcia suggested, Reid gave up and reached for his messenger bag. He removed a book he carried for months. He opened the cover and flipped to the flyleaf. He did not need to see it, because the words were burned into his mind forever, but he read them again. They were the last words Maeve had ever written to him. This time, he looked at them in a different way. Thomas Merton was right, he realized. He couldn't walk through life alone, not anymore.

He shut the book and put it aside. "I think I'm ready to move on, Maeve, but I don't know how. Can you show me a sign?"

A knock sounded on his door and he jumped in surprise from his seat on the bed. He was even more astounded when he opened the door to find Rosa standing there with a gift bag in her hand.

"Hi," she said a bit nervously.

"Hi," he greeted and they stood there staring at each other for long minutes that drew out like summer days under a brilliant sun.

She wore the same blue coat he'd seen at the coffee shop that morning, but her long black hair was pulled back into a long French braid with her bangs swept off her face. Her dark eyes were pools of deep enchantment as they stared back at him. She wore jeans and boots, and makeup. He smelled a hint of something like vanilla and cinnamon.

"Are you going to ask me in?"

"Oh, right, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm the one that just showed up on your doorstep without calling."

"It's okay. I was about to call you."

He held up his phone as she went to the chair and sat. She pulled at her gloves, but she didn't take off her coat as if she expected that he would throw her out at any moment.

"Um, why don't you take off your coat and I'll make some coffee."

She nodded and gave him her coat and scarf. He noticed that she wore a black sweater that seemed to shimmer in the light of the sun that was on its way down for the night.

"Thank you," she was saying. "I really am sorry to barge in on you, but I wanted to apologize in person and give you a late Christmas gift."

He was turning with two cups of coffee in his hands when she held out the red gift bag with lacey gold handles. It was filled with red tissue paper and had a tag hanging from one of the handles.

He set the cups on the table and took the bag. "You didn't have to buy me something. I don't have anything for you and it's New Years Eve so -"

"Why don't you open it and see what it is before you decide you don't want it."

He looked at the tag, which said: To Spencer from Santa Claus.

"Rosa."

"Just look inside, the suspense is killing me.'

He pulled out the tissue paper and removed something soft, and very purple. He let it hang from one hands so he could study it. It was a new scarf.

"How did you know I needed a new scarf?"

"A little bird told me."

"Rosa."

"I'm serious. Why don't you try it on?"

He wrapped it around his neck. "What do you think?"

He was surprised that her opinion meant so much to him. His entire body trembled as he stood there waiting for judgment to pass.

"I think it looks great."

He relaxed and pulled it off his neck. "I like it very much. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I wanted it to be a peace offering."

He sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not mad at you. I was afraid that you were mad at me."

"I was, but I was wrong. I reacted with my gut. My feelings got hurt when you weren't very enthusiastic about friendship, but I realized that I was wrong. I have no right to make some one I barely know accept my offer to be friends."

He crossed his legs and looked out at the sun that was almost on the horizon. It was very bright, but it kept him from losing his tenuous hold on his nerves.

"I want to tell you about the last year and half of my life."

"You don't have to," she interrupted. "I don't want you to feel like you have to talk about something you're not ready to reveal."

"No, it's time for me to move on."

He took a very deep breath and said. "About a year and a half ago, I met someone that I thought was my soul mate…"

He told her everything about Maeve that had lived in his head and heart for more than eighteen months. He spoke of her intelligence, her kindness and her beauty. He spoke of her letters, her calls and her fears for him. He spoke of his love for her and he spoke of her death that he couldn't prevent.

"Hey," she joined him on the bed and rubbed her hand along his forearm. "Don't cry, querido."

He wiped at his tears with both hands. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's alright. I had no idea. I'm sorry I pushed you to tell me all of this. She sounds like a remarkable woman. I'm so sorry you lost her after so much heartache."

"It's not that," he said and he got up to pace the room. "I had more joy in a few months knowing her than I did in my whole life. I blamed myself for a long time for her death, but good friends helped me to see that it wasn't my fault."

Rosa stood up. "I understand why phone calls are a sore spot."

"Yeah, it is, but you couldn't know, and honestly it's time I move on."

"Look, it wasn't my intention to force-"

"You're not forcing me into anything. I had a conversation with a friend and I told him that the acceptable time for mourning was ending and I either move on or descend into despair. I refuse to descend into despair. I'd like to ask you to help me because I like you, Rosa."

She swallowed so hard, he heard it. She reached up and kissed his cheek. "I think I can do that, although I think that Maeve left very big shoes to fill."

"I don't want you to fill her shoes. I want you to fill your own shoes. Is that okay."

"I'll try."

He smiled and it felt good. A sudden feeling of well being surrounded him and seemed to permeate every aspect of his body and mind. It almost seemed as though Maeve were there and she was smiling on him.

"What are you thinking?"

He smiled down at her. "I was thinking that I feel more like myself than I have in a very long time. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I don't know what I did, but I'm not going to question it."

"What now?"

"I think I'd like to take a walk before the sun goes all the way down and it gets too cold. You can try out your scarf."

CMCMCMCM

Finally, he was back in his own apartment. It didn't matter that he'd had to endure a very tense reunion with JJ because he'd seen Henry and they'd enjoyed the new snow that had fallen over night. There was something about disturbing the newly fallen snow that made him smile.

He took off his coat and new scarf, which he threw over the arm of his couch. He took his messenger bag to his bookcase and removed "The Narrative of John Smith," from it. He laid one hand on it reverently and stood there for a few minutes, not thinking about Maeve, but feeling her there in his heart. "Thank you," he said.

He put the book on his bookshelf and went to his chess set. He turned the white queen over on her side and picked up the black queen. He looked at her for a long time then put her in the center of the game board.

"My move," he said softly.

The sun was going down again, but this time the approaching darkness didn't frighten him.

THE END


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